Memories of a Tranquil
by Sparky Mira
Summary: Quick one shot.  Serious angst.  The story of a mage's escape of becoming tranquil, and Anders' discovery of her when she is caught.


She shivered, her legs moving more quickly as she stumbled through the dark passage. Her body was covered in wet dirt and feces. Her right hand stung from the wound she had put there and was only amplified by the dirt and grim now smeared over them. She could not move fast enough, she could not move quietly enough, and despite her trying the sobs would not stop escaping her. She felt them whispering to her - the demons - telling her they could help her be free, help her destroy her pursuers. She would not prove them right by falling to such temptation. She could not. They were gaining on her now. Any moment she would be caught, unless the grace of the Maker saved her. A dim light from above leaked into the passageway; she reached for the opening, scraping her broken nails to find the latch, to escape. Then she was in Darktown. Moving the wood back over the opening, trying to close it so no light would shine through. She had to reach the lanterns. The air moved over her skin as she panted, aching, still running in her smalls. It's a rare moment that you are glad to be covered in human waste for the protection it offers you from unknown hands and attackers. Sounds of metal. They found her way out. Her feet were beginning to bleed. She was leaving a trail. The lanterns, she had to find the lanterns. The whispering was growing. Louder they spoke to her of freedom, more urgently. Her feet moved faster, she must keep running. They were there now. The two doors, the lanterns. The one place that she would be safe. They were so close. She had killed three templars to escape, only a few feet further and she would be free. Her hands hit the wood, the sharp grain felt heavenly to her fingers. Her arms battered against the door when they would not open. Her breath growing quicker. The demons scratching at her mind moving louder. Her eyes darted around as the templars approached. She felt her half shaven head, and the imprint sunken into the flesh of her forehead. They had circled her now. She didn't want this. She didn't want to fight any more, to kill anyone. She had done nothing wrong, why was a letter to her lover worth the loss of herself? She would not allow it, she would not. She screamed, and the magic rushed out of her like a wave, forcing the steel clad monsters back. She turned back to the doors, tried harder to open them, harder, harder. She pounded aginst them. They were rushing her now. Someone had grabbed her arm, twisted it behind her back. She would not fall to the whispers and the lies she told she would not. The raw sound of her voice's terrors and sobs echoed through Darktown. Just one more sound in the night, stopped with a pommel to the back of her head.

Anders walked through the gallows market. Hawke had told him he could recieve a discount for lyrium and potion supplies here. "Would you like to look at the circle's wares?" a monotone woman's voice asked as he passed. He stopped and turned. Looked at the blank stare she gave him with her bloodshot empty eyes. She was only recently turned tranquil, her head still freshly shaved. This woman was the third new tranquil he had seen this month. "Perhapes some runes would interest you, sir." Her hand stretched out, rune in her palm. Anders reached out to pick up the fire rune. It was unremarkable; he placed it back on the table and he paused seeing her hand was still outstretched. It was cut deeply. Something inside of him sneered, thinking of blood magic. He stared at the hand a moment longer before realizing the cuts were letters, feeling the anger wash over him, seeing the slight blue begin to shine through his body. He breathed, calming down. This was not the place for Justice. Not now. He saw her blink with the feeling, her eyes flickered for just a moment, long enough for fresh tears to sprout. "Do not worry, you will not have to suffer much longer." He folded her hand back to her, hiding the two words there. "I do not understand" she said in monotone as he turned and left. Her eyes empty as before.

Anders hid in an allyway for a moment, just breathing. Something had to be done. Someone had to protect the mages. His brain would not stop wandering though, remembering those words carved into her skin so deep they would scar even with healing. He shook his head, promising to himself that somehow he would fullfill her wish. "Kill Me." 


End file.
